The Invisible Battlefield: How Digital Violence is Reshaping the Global Fight for Gender Equality
Ljubica Fuentes knows that a screen is never just a screen. It is a portal, and for those targeted by gender-based hate, it is a portal through which safety evaporates. “When you get away from your abusers, you feel kind of safe,” she explains, reflecting on a journey that took her from a law school classroom in Ecuador to the global stage of human rights advocacy. “But digital violence is following you around everywhere you go.”
For Fuentes, the nightmare began with a single act of defiance. As a law student at Ecuador’s largest public university, she sat through a lecture where her professor brazenly dismissed the professional aspirations of every woman in the room. He claimed that women were not “real lawyers” but were merely attending the university to find a husband. When Fuentes raised her hand to object, she wasn’t just challenging a teacher; she was inadvertently painting a target on her back.
From that moment on, her identity on campus was reduced to a slur. She became known as the “feminazi,” a derogatory term used to silence and dehumanize women who demand equality. What began as classroom harassment quickly metastasized into a sophisticated digital campaign. Her Instagram inbox became a repository for warnings. Anonymous users hijacked campus Facebook pages to broadcast threats. Eventually, the digital vitriol leaked into the physical world: whispers of rape threats followed her through the hallways, and she received word that someone had been hired to physically assault her.
The pressure became untenable. In the middle of the night, Fuentes fled, seeking a semester abroad to preserve her “sanity and integrity.” Her story is a harrowing testament to the fact that “online” is not a separate reality. It is an extension of our physical lives, and for many women, it is the most dangerous frontier they navigate.
Today, Fuentes is a human rights lawyer and the founder of Ciudadanas del Mundo, an organization dedicated to eradicating gender-based violence in higher education. But her experience is far from unique. It is a microcosm of a global epidemic that is currently hiding in plain sight.
### A Global Epidemic Under the Radar
Digital violence—or technology-facilitated gender-based violence (TFGBV)—is a disturbing global reality that transcends borders, socioeconomic status, and age. Data suggests that between 16 and 58 percent of women have experienced some form of digital violence. A comprehensive study by the Economist Intelligence Unit revealed that 38 percent of women have personally faced online abuse, while a staggering 85 percent have witnessed it directed at others.
The problem reached a fever pitch during the COVID-19 pandemic. As the world retreated into lockdown, life shifted almost entirely to digital platforms. While the internet provided a lifeline for work and education, it also provided a new, unregulated playground for domestic and systemic abuse. Fuentes notes that the patriarchy proved remarkably adaptable during this period. “Patriarchy understood how to change in order to reach people inside homes,” she says. “Online, everyone becomes braver. People were able to hide behind the screen and a fake user ID.”
This “bravery” is fueled by the anonymity and perceived lack of consequences in digital spaces. Harassers can swarm a target with thousands of messages in minutes, a tactic known as “dogpiling,” which creates an atmosphere of constant, inescapable psychological warfare.
### The Real-World Consequences of Virtual Hate
One of the most dangerous myths about digital violence is that it is “lesser” than physical violence. However, the psychological and social impacts are devastatingly real. For activists like Fuentes, online harassment necessitates a state of constant hyper-vigilance. Every post, every shared opinion, and every digital interaction must be scrutinized for potential vulnerabilities.
“The constant scrutiny takes away your peace,” Fuentes says. “You always have to be 120 percent prepared to make an opinion online. If you are a feminist, if you are an activist, you don’t have the right to be wrong. You are not allowed to even have a past.”
This demand for perfection acts as a form of soft censorship. When women are afraid to speak because they fear a coordinated digital attack, democracy suffers. This is particularly evident among women in public-facing roles. A 2020 UNESCO report found that 73 percent of women journalists had experienced online violence in the course of their work. For many, the abuse leads to “silencing”—the decision to withdraw from public life, abandon their careers, or restrict their speech to avoid further targeting.
For young girls, the risks are even more acute. With 58 percent of girls experiencing online harassment, the digital world is becoming a space that stifles their development rather than empowering it. The consequences range from mental health crises and self-harm to the abandonment of education. In the most extreme cases, digital abuse is a precursor to physical violence and even femicide, as stalkers use technology to track and isolate their victims.
### The Justice Gap and the Crisis of Accountability
Despite the escalating scale of this crisis, the global legal infrastructure remains woefully inadequate. Currently, less than half of the world’s countries have laws specifically designed to prosecute online abuse. This legislative void leaves survivors with little to no recourse.
Fuentes highlights the frustration of seeking help from a system that doesn’t recognize the crime. “They don’t have laws that say anything about this problem,” she notes. “If you go to a public defender, they are going to say to you, ‘You have to wait five years for this to be solved. Are you sure you want to start it?’”
This normalization of the justice gap discourages reporting. When survivors are told that digital threats are “just words” or that the legal process is too slow to be effective, they are essentially being told that their safety is not a priority. Furthermore, big tech companies have been criticized for their slow response times and their failure to take corporate responsibility for the violence facilitated by their platforms. Algorithms often prioritize “engagement,” which can inadvertently boost inflammatory and abusive content, creating a profitable cycle of harassment.
### Funding the Resistance
In the face of government and corporate inaction, grassroots feminist organizations have stepped in to fill the void. Fuentes’ organization, Ciudadanas del Mundo, now works with 600 people annually, focusing on early prevention and helping universities establish safety protocols. They provide vital legal support to survivors and mobilize over 1,000 people each year for advocacy campaigns.
Fuentes is also a key voice in the ACT Programme, a collaboration between the European Commission and UN Women. This initiative aims to ensure that global policy responses are grounded in the lived realities of women on the ground. However, the movement is facing a secondary crisis: a drastic reduction in funding.
Recent data from a UN Women survey conducted in mid-2025 reveals a bleak landscape. Over 34 percent of feminist organizations have had to suspend programs due to funding cuts. Even more alarming, 89 percent reported severe reductions in access to support services for survivors in their communities. At a time when digital violence is becoming more sophisticated—aided by developments in AI and deepfake technology—the organizations best equipped to fight it are being starved of resources.
### A Path Toward Digital Safety
The fight against digital violence requires a multi-pronged approach involving governments, tech giants, and individual users. Governments must modernize their legal frameworks to include specific provisions for digital stalking, non-consensual image sharing, and coordinated harassment. Universities and workplaces must implement clear safety protocols that recognize digital abuse as a violation of safety.
For women and girls currently navigating these digital minefields, Fuentes offers a message of resilience. She eventually became the legal representative in a case against the very teacher who had once told her women couldn’t be lawyers. It was a full-circle moment of justice, but one that came at a high personal cost.
“I will endure everything again,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “just to know that someone is not going to go through what I went through.”
As the “16 Days of Activism” campaign approaches, the global community is being called to recognize that online spaces must be empowering, not threatening. Digital violence is not an inevitable byproduct of the internet; it is a systemic failure that requires a collective, unapologetic response. Until the digital world is safe for women, the fight for gender equality remains unfinished.
